The Lights of Saint-Denis
by Beth Winter
Summary: Years after the Promised Day, a single figure stands in the Basilique Saint-Denis in Paris, lighting candles. WARNING: Spoilers for X16, AU


I wanted to write a years-after-X vignette concerned with a character I haven't played with before. I placed it in a place I only visited once, but which made a great impression on me. Unfortunately I couldn't find an online plan of the Basilique Saint-Denis for love nor money, so it's based on my ten-year-old memories and photos.   
  
  
  
WARNING: Spoilers for X16, AU   
Rating: PG, I guess   
  
  
  
The Lights of Saint-Denis   
by Beth   
  
  
The basilica was a splendid web of gothic stone filigree. As the sun moved across the sky, multicolored shadows played hide-and-seek between the marble figures of long-dead kings. But from one chapel different lights issued, ones that flickered and reached out timidly only to pull back, limited by their wicks. The dozens of little flames shone on the single person in the chapel.   
  
The woman was old, but not so old that her hands would tremble. Her fingers were sure as they struck the first match and lit the first candle of the row that lay before her, even though her hair was now almost completely gray.   
  
The first candle was for a boy that never had the chance to become a man. They had talked about Paris and planned to spare a day for Saint-Denis, but by then he had already been fading. She remembered that at the end he had been not much more than translucent skin and eyes that had still shone like the brightest amethysts.   
  
She took a second candle, for the boy that had taken the first one's will to live when he perished on that fateful day. Maybe if they'd found a way for him to live, they'd both be here now, lighting candles with her and arguing about whether La Tour Eiffel was more impressive than Tokyo Tower. She lit the wick and stared into the flame for a moment, then placed it on the rack beside its twin.   
  
The third. Then man she considered a true friend, loyal to a fault. Too good to be true, and in the end too good to live as well. She shuddered when she recalled holding his torn heart in her palm, then forced her hands to steady as she struck another match.   
  
The fourth candle was for her friend's killer, who'd looked at her with wide-open eyes as she had struck. The lavender eyes had not even flickered while the white hair burned and crumbled, and the killer fell soundlessly into the waters of Tokyo bay. She still could not stand the sea, but the ritual she was performing was a way of letting go of those memories as well.   
  
The next was for someone who could have been her friend if not for the cruel bitch called destiny. She'd gone out for coffee with him once, both of them studiously avoiding mentioning the others, and for a few glorious moments forgetting everything but the fleeting charm of summer.   
  
With the next two candles she recalled the most cheerful person on her side. Oh, that boy had made her laugh... The second flame was of course for his love and apparent opposite, the girl who had cried for the first time when she held his broken body in her arms. When she felt his blood between her fingers. In deference to that memory, the woman lit their candles with one match.   
  
But they hadn't been the only ones to find love in their battle. She lit another two candles for two bright souls, a girl of pure light and a man that shone solidly like a beacon in the night. She recalled the night the girl had told her about him, and asked for advice. The woman had given none, and none had been needed by the next sunset. They had been buried in one grave a few days later. She had been the only mourner.   
  
She was now down to the ones she did not know so well. She lit a candle for the girl who had commanded machines. She knew that they had found the body frozen solid between the computers, the elfin face contorted in a grimace of fear.   
  
A flame for the dreamer. She heard he'd woken, in the end, and thrown himself out of the window. It always struck her as a very melodramatic way to go.   
  
There were only three candles left, and she placed the next one on the rack. She let her fingers linger around it, thinking of the man she had never seen. With al she had heard of him, it had surprised her that he'd been the first one to fall. Still, he fell but did not fail-   
  
A new flame flickered into life, but her matches lay by the rack. A long-fingered, elegant hand appeared from her right, bringing a lacquered cigarette lighter to the candle.   
  
"This one is for Sakurazuka-san," she said.   
  
"You're looking very well, Karen-san."   
  
She turned towards him and took in the changes. He was still tall and slim, and his face remained unmarred, but the thick dark hair was now streaked with silver at the temples. The eyes were the same.   
  
"So are you," she said simply. "Did you come for me?"   
  
"I'm afraid you overestimate my abilities." He chuckled ruefully. "I'm in Saint-Denis as a simple tourist."   
  
"You were never simple. I'm-"   
  
"Subaru-SAN!" a girl's voice called from the cathedral's main nave. "Do you have that roll of film we bought yesterday cause I've run out and there's this amazing tombstone I've gotta have a photo of and- oh! I'm sorry!" she yelped as she entered the chapel.   
  
She bowed. "Please excuse me. I did not think anyone else was here."   
  
"It's alright, I'm an old friend of Sumeragi-san," Karen smiled. "I'm Karen Kasumi."   
  
"Rei Sakurazuka, nice to meet you. Have you known Subaru-san for long?"   
  
"We haven't seen each other for a very long time," Subaru explained as he handed Rei the film. "What was it - twenty years?"   
  
Twenty years, five months and twelve days.   
  
"Something like that."   
  
Rei bowed again before exiting the chapel.   
  
"Sakurazuka? How old is she?" Karen asked.   
  
"Fifteen. She's a sweet child."   
  
"I thought I'd see you at his funeral." There was no question who 'he' was.   
  
"I'm sorry."   
  
"At least he went peacefully. The doctors said he died before the pain got too bad."   
  
"I know. I was there."   
  
"Oh."   
  
"He asked me to."   
  
"It wasn't fair. He won. *We* won."   
  
"There's no justice..." he mused. "Why the candles?"   
  
"For their souls. It's a custom here... each flame is a prayer." She pointed to each candle in turn. "Kamui... Fuuma... Seiichiro... Nataku... Yuuto... Sorata... Arashi... Yuzuriha... Kusanagi... Satsuki... Kakyou..."   
  
"Seishirou. And there are two left."   
  
He picked up one of the remaining candles and passed the wick through Seishirou's flame. He held it up until the wax ran down his fingers, then placed it on the rack.   
  
She put the last candle beside it, then lit it with a match. Out of the corner of an eye she saw his eyebrows rise, but the question remained unspoken.   
  
They stared in silence at the flickering flames, recalling faces and voices long gone. A few minutes later hesitant footsteps echoed in the chapel and Rei joined them.   
  
Then someone slammed the door to the church, and the resulting gust of wind picked up speed as it bounced around the basilica. It brushed past the marble faces of long-dead kings. It whistled between oaken pews.   
  
It blew out all the candles in the chapel.   
  
In the darkness, Karen smiled.   
  
She brought the fourteen candles back to life first, with a single thought. Then the others, until the chapel was once again a galaxy of flickering flame.   
  
But the candles of the dragons burned the brightest.   
  
  
~FINIS~   
  
  
  
  
  
Author's notes:   
La Tour Eiffel - Eiffel Tower   
"There is no justice" - the other half of Terry Pratchett's Death's trademark line is of course "There's just me." Fits, doesn't it?   
  
Those who know my current hair color, preferred wardrobe choices and photographic mania will have already guessed that Rei's middle name is "Mary Sue"... sorry but it *was* an excuse for Subaru to visit the cathedral!   
  
Seishirou: Excuses, excuses. And you weren't cute at 15, you weighed 50 pounds more than you do now.   
Beth: Sei-chan, is this any way to speak of your family??   
Seishirou: *turns green at the thought of being related to Beth* Orooo...


End file.
